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April 20, 2012
Fenway is making a huge deal about their 100th anniversary. Which makes sense because, you know, 100 is old, and sometimes it's nice to celebrate history. Other times it's nice to get with the f'n times and recognize that obstructed views, seats built for asses no bigger than a pizza bagel, and structural integrity akin to a 90-year old wooden roller coaster are not necessarily hallmarks of classic Americana so much as they're antiquated sources of aggravation.

But, no it's cool, Fenway. Stick to your guns. (Honestly, I think it's kind of hilarious that their big centennial bash is so close to Jackie Robinson Day. Every year, they kind of murmur and stammer their way through #42 day, sometimes evening taking a stab at making a "Black People in Red Sox History" montage. I think the finance department was like, "Ok, we went 5 million UNDER budget last weekend. Again. Can we just find SOMETHING to spend this on?")

So they started with the old school uniforms.

Sigh. I may be alone on this, but they look like soux chef costumes. They do NOT bring to mind the good old days of Highlanders. The logo isn't warped looking enough. It's too skinny. And too new looking. And what the hell, WHY DO THE YANKEES HAVE TO DEVIATE FROM THEIR UNIFORMS FOR THE FIRST TIME IN TEAM HISTORY BECAUSE BOSTON SAYS SO?

I mean, when I was in 6th grade, I had an alien sleepover party where everyone had to come dressed as an Alien, and we watched the Sigourney Weaver movie (I did, anyway, none of the other 11 year old girls were into it). But I KNOW if there was a historical chick in my class who told me that her legendary family had never worn an alien costume in their entire geneological span, I wouldn't have pushed some pipe cleaner antennaes her way and said, "Suit up, princess. Shit's about to get weird."

I really wouldn't have.

But fine, we dress up in the ridiculous get up even though we weren't even the Yankees on April 20, 1912. Maybe Boston was just trying to recreate the day to the exact tee, in the hopes of getting a win out it. (This has Bobby V written all over it.)

Unlike 100 years ago though, the "Highlanders" won. And it was a quick one, comparatively. Sorry, Boston. (I'm not even really sorry.)

I caught this one from work, but my job is awesome and there's a beer cart that rolls around every Friday at 3, and a plasma tv and tables and chairs so actual work can still be done. And only 2 Red Sock fans in the entire company. Both of which are like the equivalent of bumble bees in the sense that they won't sting unless seriously provoked, but I tend to forget that they're harmless because bees as a whole absolutely terrify me.

Things that aren't terrifying=The Boston Red Socks.

So yeah, the game. Nova vs Cheekbones.

Nova has now won 15 straight starts. I used to be kinda baffled by how he hasn't been getting Ken from Jeopardy treatment. But now that I think about it, I'm thrilled that he's flying under the media hype radar. I feel like one of those annoying New Yorkers who go out of their way to comment on Zagats or Yelp about how such-and-such restaurant is "their spot" and they're soooo worried that once people find it, it'll lose its coziness and they'll be crowded out of their own neighbor when THEY were going their first, dammit.

(I'm always amazed at how many people in the world write reviews. And how much importance is assigned to them. It's food, not an MRI. You could probably get away with coming to your own opinion on it and still be safe.)

So Nova (No One) was dealing today. As usual (or...for the very first time. Just in case Sports Illustrated starts getting any ideas about the pitcher du jour to screw over.) 2 runs, 7 hits, 5Ks, no walks in 6 innings.

The real story though (sorry, Fenway) was the Yankee bat action. Probably around a million solo shots were hit. I was gonna say "from the most random sources" but Arod is listed among those who took Boston deep, and Arod going yard in Fenway isn't random. It's poetic.

Dustin "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over all the error-making" Pedroia let on base in the 1st when he dropped a pop up. Wild pitch puts Jeter on 2nd. Arod's single brings him in. More scoring TK.

Swish and Chavez homer in the 2nd. (I love how this game will go in history books because its the centennial etc etc, and years from now kids'll be reading this thinking that these were the players that defined baseball in this era. Nick Swisher and Eric Chavez.)

David "Yeah, I'm not quitting steroids" Ortiz homers and the crowd goes WILD! YEAH! 3-1 game and take that New York! You can't hold Papi down, he OWNS your asses.

WOOOO!!

Chavez homers again in the 4th. As if to invalidate the significance of Ortiz's homerun. "See? Means nothing. Grow up, Fenway."

Then Arod throws his hat in the ring in the 5th.

As if to say, "Well, why the hell not. It's a day game. I'm Arod. I got 2 options. The ball hits the bat. Or the ball hits me."

Boston makes a real run though in the 5th when 2 of their great franchise players "step up" to set an example for the team:

The Red Sox made it 5-2 in the bottom of the fifth when Cody Ross doubled and Mike Aviles was credited with a double when right fielder Swisher lost his fly ball in the sun.

That was the end of the scoring for the Socks.

Not the Yanks though. Russell Martin goes deep in the 6th.

As if to say, "NOW I'M HAVING FUN."

Annnd we are finished with the plating of the runners conversation.

But, like I always think whenever we play the Socks:



And also:



So here's some other things to think about:

All the big Socks of the past came by the old stomping grounds. Even Francona. And I gotta say, I've always actually liked the guy (he got it, you know? He just did the right thing, in the game anyway, I don't care what he did or didn't do allegedly off the field). It must be so hard to come to these things. Like having Shannon Doherty come to a reunion episode of 90210 or something. How awkward must that be? And maybe in the first time in Fenway's 100 year old life span, the actually lived up to their idiotic moniker of "Fenway Faithfuls." They cheered loudly and aggressively.

It could just be that Tito is a character foil now to the less than loved Valentine. Actually that's probably it. Valentine is the reason they're losing. If only Tito were there, then everything would be different, right? Ah, who cares. It's Boston. But I do admire how the guy has handled himself post-firing. So far, no tell-alls throwing his players under the bus, leveraging his "family" to cast shadows on the evil brass.

Alright, so Tito isn't the devil, so noted. He's not God either though, so my time is better spent on the pathetic mess that populates the home team's dugout.

The Socks have been outscore 31-8 during their 4 game losing streak.

Cheekbones is pitching about as remarkably as a high school junior. He can get the ball over the plate (as evidenced by the repeated instances of the ball going out of the park) but his flair for off-speed pitching and general AB strategy isn't just a matter of having bad outings so much as being a matter of nonexistent. The jury is still out on whether he's even an actual human, and not just some creepy robotic brainchild from Japan.

This would explain what Dice-K's been working on during his $50 bajillion tenure in Boston, since we're all still waiting patiently for that gyro-ball blockbuster to make its way into the scene.

Tomorrow we got Freddy "Crapshoot" Garcia goes up against someone named Felix Doubront, who I'm assuming the Socks optioned right after Felix put down his feather pen and announced he was going to leave the Baroque era for good. Scouting reports say he has a deceptive fast ball.

That's new. And an unusual delivery. That's like Boston's "thing," I guess. Unusual delivery. Do they even wait to see where the pitch goes before signing these people? I put the O/U at 3 years before Rick Barry starts being the NESN fan-of-choice to hover cameras on.

So that's where we're at. Oh, and this:

Poor Crazy Yankee Fish has been swimming around a dead fish carcass all day since I was too incapacitated with that eye thing that I always get, to properly address anything other than regaining my vision. Busy morning in 9F.

Sigh. RIP, Bartolo Colon THE FISH. THE ALLERGY. THE LEGEND.

AND LASTLY, tomorrow I'm live blogging. From Dorrian's. Which is a decision that sounds like "What could possibly go wrong?" should be added to the end of it, as if to punctuate the assurance that, indeed, tomorrow's going to be like giving monkeys keys to an amusement park.

Bring on the bananas, boys.

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